Myths That Every Child Should Know A Selection Of The Classic Myths Of All Times For Young People

Page: 92

Whether it were the oracular cow or some other one, it did not seem
reasonable that she should travel a great way farther. So, whenever they
reached a particularly pleasant spot on a breezy hillside, or in a
sheltered vale, or flowery meadow, on the shore of a calm lake, or along
the bank of a clear stream, Cadmus looked eagerly around to see if the
situation would suit him for a home. But still, whether he liked the
place or no, the brindled cow never offered to lie down. On she went at
the quiet pace of a cow going homeward to the barnyard; and, every
moment Cadmus expected to see a milkmaid approaching with a pail, or a
herdsman running to head the stray animal, and turn her back toward the
pasture. But no milkmaid came; no herdsman drove her back; and Cadmus
followed the stray brindle till he was almost ready to drop down with
fatigue.

"O brindled cow," cried he, in a tone of despair, "do you never mean to
stop?"

He had now grown too intent on following her to think of lagging behind,
however long the way, and whatever might be his fatigue. Indeed, it
seemed as if there were something about the animal that bewitched
people. Several persons who happened to see the brindled cow, and Cadmus
following behind, began to trudge after her, precisely as he did. Cadmus
was glad of somebody to converse with, and therefore talked very freely
to these good people. He told them all his adventures, and how he had
left King Agenor in his palace, and Phœnix at one place, and Cilix at
another, and Thasus at a third, and his dear mother, Queen Telephassa,
under a flowery sod; so that now he was quite alone, both friendless and
homeless. He mentioned, likewise, that the oracle had bidden him be
guided by a cow, and inquired of the strangers whether they supposed
that this brindled animal could be the one.

"Why, 'tis a very wonderful affair," answered one of his new companions.
"I am pretty well acquainted with the ways of cattle, and I never knew a
cow, of her own accord, to go so far without stopping. If my legs will
let me, I'll never leave following the beast till she lies down."

"Nor I!" said a second.

"Nor I!" cried a third. "If she goes a hundred miles farther, I'm
determined to see the end of it."

The secret of it was, you must know, that the cow was an enchanted cow,
and that, without their being conscious of it, she threw some of her
enchantment over everybody that took so much as half a dozen steps
behind her. They could not possibly help following her, though, all the
time, they fancied themselves doing it of their own accord. The cow was
by no means very nice in choosing her path; so that sometimes they had
to scramble over rocks, or wade through mud and mire, and were all in a
terribly bedraggled condition, and tired to death, and very hungry, into
the bargain. What a weary business it was!